


To Pity is to Love

by auspicious_encounters



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Background Smut, Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy ending trust me, M/M, Minor OOC, Sollux has two fish sticks you can't change my mind, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 17:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auspicious_encounters/pseuds/auspicious_encounters
Summary: Eridan Ampora is a liar. This comes as a revelation to no one, least of all himself, though it takes him a long, long time to admit it.It really wouldn’t have been nearly so bad except for the fact that he’s the most deplorable type of loser there is; because if there’s one person you have to keep your facts straight with, it’s your own goddamn self. And nobody else is pathetic enough to believe even half of the bullshit that comes spewing out of his mouth; it’s just him, his delusions of grandeur, and his awful habit of driving away any-and-every good person that’s ever come into his life.But by far the worst lie he’s ever told himself - and believed - is that he would ever be satisfied with just this.





	To Pity is to Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carysias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carysias/gifts).

> This AU takes place in a timeline where Eridan doesn’t kill but violently maims Feferi, and also Sollux and Fef were and are established matesprits. Enjoy!

_ Eridan may be a liar _ but Sollux is a fucking cheater. Eridan remembers this two seconds too late, because at this point he’s already flat on his back with his arms flopped uselessly at his sides. The psionic mutant responsible for his quick and utter humiliation straddles him triumphantly, expression unbearably smug.

It’s Eridan’s fault, really, for suggesting such a thing in the first place. Except it’s not even a thing - it’s a passing infatuation - a harmless indulgence of curiosity - whatever was the opposite of this stupid mutant’s response of ”Are you propositioning me for a kismesissitude? I’m so flattered that you hate me so much you think this’ll work out.”

“Shut your bloody mouth - this barely constitutes a one-night stand! As though I’d humiliate myself with a kismesissitude with a lowblood like you.” Because saying it, repeating it, and really believing it might possibly make it just slightly true.

“That’s what you say now, Ampora.” Sollux smirks, wiggling his fingers. “But I’ve got a couple of tricks up my sleeve, and if you don’t come back after this you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, because I’m the best you’ll  _ ever _ have.”

“Get the fuck off of me and we’ll see who’s the best of who’s!”

“No.” Sollux’s still smirking, the insufferably arrogant bastard, one hand now wrapped tight around Eridan’s throat. “We do this my way, or not at all.”

“You  _ pissblooded grubfuck! _ ”

Sollux pauses, waiting to see if there’s any more to Eridan’s resistance, but that’s all he’s got. He should fight but he can’t, he can’t because what Sollux’s doing now with his tongue feels  _ so goddamn good _ , and besides, what the hell is he supposed to do against a freak that can take control his limbs like a fucking puppetmaster? So he takes it, in the same way he takes Sollux’s psionic shocks, which Sol dispenses nigh indiscriminately whenever he feels Eridan is in need of any “correction.” (Eridan, for his part, is by no means turned on by the sharp stings of electricity, and he in no way begs Sollux to do it to him again. Highbloods like him don’t ask, they demand, and if he tacks on a “please” at the end it’s just him being polite and showing manners,  _ not that I expect you to understand what those are, you low-blooded filth. _ )

If he’s being honest, Eridan’s completely expecting Sollux to be cruel, or at least hurt him for everything he’s done and almost did to Feferi. It’s insulting, then, almost patronizing, when Sollux doesn’t. Sollux rationalizes this by pointing out that broken toys are no fun to play with, but then Eridan goes back for a second time, then a third, and then a fourth. By this point he’s realized that Sollux had no intention of ever using his control over Eridan to get revenge, and in fact he never will. 

What he completely didn’t expect are the little bits of kindness Sollux scatters throughout their play: Sollux verifying before each time that Eridan’s okay with what they’re about to do, Sollux making sure he’s stretched and well-prepared, Sollux praising him afterwards for a job well done. Eridan has no idea what to do with any of it - he locks these precious memories close to his chest and examines them end on end for days after they’ve happened.

The sixth time they pail is first time Sollux finally manages to shove both bulges inside Eridan’s nook; he’s stretched and tense and terrified he’ll rip in half. By this point their relationship has clearly already become  _ a thing, _ and now everyone else is starting to know it’s a thing, too. Even now, his husktop has eleven messages from Fef, sitting unopened: though he knows she’s nice enough to genuinely mean well when she wishes them all the best, him and Sollux and Fef and Sollux is a clusterfuck he’d rather not prod with a ten-foot pole.

Actually, out of the two of them, it’s only Sollux who’s come out and said it: ‘Yes, I am actually his kismesis now, No, he doesn’t “glub” when he cums.’ Eridan still stridently refuses to publicly acknowledge their kismesissitude, and by now he’s starting to push it past the point of believable reluctance. He even notices Sollux taken aback sometimes, as if hurt by his refusal to put their relationship in concrete terms.

It’s not that he doesn’t want a relationship with Sol - hell, a relationship is  _ exactly _ what he wanted. But already fucking things up once in the past has made him afraid to commit to specific words he doesn’t want. Even though-

_ Even though even in the privacy of his own mind, Eridan doesn’t let himself acknowledge what he truly wants. All he knows is that the word kismesis tastes like a mockery in his mouth, a bitter parody of the thing he could have instead. _

But no - better cull that thought before it hatches. Matespritships are for people like Sol, strong and kind and endlessly patient as Eridan whimpers and struggles to take both of his bulges at once. Sollux runs his hands along Eridan’s gills, softly and gently, whispering encouragement in Eridan’s ear: “Relax, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re so beautiful like this, taking it so good for me. I’ve got you.”

And Eridan trusts him. Eridan trusts him, because Sol’s never hurt him, not once, not in any way that actually matters.

Gentle is the furthest description from what they do. Not when they’ve left no less than three dents in each of their respective pails. Not when he’s left raw and aching and unable to walk straight for days. Not when Sollux makes sure everyone in a three-mile radius can hear him screaming.

But then every-once-in-a-while Sol runs him a bath and wipes him clean and sometimes even  _ fucking tucks him in _ after Eridan’s been reduced to a spineless, boneless mess, and nothing makes sense anymore. He thinks,  _ this is so wrong. We’re doing this black romance completely the fuck all wrong. _ There’s Fef and there’s Sol, and that’s the matespritship of the two most important people to him in the goddamn world. He doesn’t deserve their acknowledgement, much less their forgiveness, after what he’s done. The least he can do to atone, he thinks, is to leave their happiness the fuck alone.

But Eridan has always been weak, as much as he hates himself for it, and he selfishly clings onto any scraps of affection from Sollux he can get. Like now, still trembling from the aftershocks of electricity and exertion, sore and aching in all the best ways possible. 

Any moment now, Sollux will leave. He’s half-dressed already, searching around the floor for his carelessly discarded glasses. Any moment now, Sollux will leave and return back to the hive he shares with Feferi, and Eridan will once again be left all alone in this giant hive far too grand and far too lonely for one teenaged troll to take. 

As he adjusts his rumpled clothes and makes his way to the door, Sollux asks, “You good? Need anything before I go?”

Eridan mutely shakes his head.

"Alright. Goodnight, ED.”

Sollux: *walks out. Lights out. Curtains drawn: end of story*

Except tonight, Eridan catches him, because before he’s about to take that final step outside, Sollux sneaks a glance at Eridan over his shoulder, much too quickly, as though stealing one last, forbidden look. Later, this look will be to blame, for when Eridan recounts the scene and attempts to puzzle it out to himself. For now, though, he has no idea what possesses him to cry out:

“Wait! Don’t go.”

Eridan barely even recognizes the sound of his own voice, torn out of him by desperation. And why the fuck is Sollux hesitating there now, wavering at the threshold like he’s peering over the edge of some great precipice, fighting the desire to jump?

One of them needs to put on a show of restraint, and Eridan is selfishly hoping it won’t have to be him. He can picture it so clearly: Sollux, lips twisted in a sneer of contempt, Sollux, stalking back and roughly grabbing his face, Sollux and the words he should say:  _ desperate, needy, pathetic. _

If Sollux doesn’t slam this door closed right the fuck now, it’s going to be up to Eridan to do it. And deeply, privately, he knows that he can’t.

“Stay.” He tries to give it like a command, but the tremor in his voice isn’t fooling anybody. As it is, he’s barely holding himself back from begging. 

Right when he’s sure he’s about to snap, Sollux gives in and re-enters the room. They’re looking anywhere but each other’s eyes, both fighting to come up with the same excuses. 

“It’s late,” Sollux blurts out. It’s always late by the time Sollux leaves, mostly because it’s not uncommon for their activities to take up the better portion of the entire day. Eridan’s about to say, “No fucking shit,” when Sollux barrels forward with: “So I really think you should show some fucking consideration for once and invite me to stay over tonight, yeah?”

“Is that not what I’m doing?” Eridan demands. “Don’t push your luck, mutant.”

“Oh, you mean the same mutant who used his psionics to get you off three times in a row without even  _ touching _ you?”

For all his bluster, Sollux is surprisingly shy when it comes to sleeping in the same bed together. After some awkward shuffling and fumbling, they finally end up settling underneath the covers facing one another, close but not quite touching. Neither of them say another word.

Eridan doesn’t dare let himself think about what this might mean. Sollux is regarding him with an expression unbearably close to, but not quite pity, so he closes his eyes instead.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [falling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166604) by [carysias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carysias/pseuds/carysias)


End file.
